How I Married Robin
by ahhimym
Summary: The story isn't over-the creators left us with room for a whole new chapter! Instead of trying to hide the story ending, this one-shot (or maybe a series, unsure as of yet) will see how Ted and Robin finally enter a relationship that lasts.


Hey, guys! I'm resurrecting an old-fan fiction of mine, but I think now is the time! Carter Bays and Craig Thomas left so much for a new story to be told. This is a shot in the dark, but I hope you like it!

How I Married Robin

Chapter 1: The Blue French Horn Sounds

Ted Mosby was back. As he stood outside Robin Scherbatsky's house twenty five years after the fact. He rang the doorbell, gazed at the blue French horn, and thought of how he wanted this to go a quarter century ago…

In his worn suit, a young Ted Mosby loitered on the sidewalk outside of this girl's apartment, about to part ways with what was probably another one night stand. Robin Scherbatsky wore a pink sweater and her overalls, looking like a girl sad that her sleepover had been cut short. And yet, Ted thought, she looked beautiful even in her pajamas at this late hour of night. That raven hair. Those piercing sea foam eyes. There was something more to her—and he'd blown it.

He still couldn't believe what he'd said.

"_I think I'm in love with you."_

Robin hadn't reacted positively. When he'd asked her to tell her friends this psychotic romantic was "eccentric" instead of a "psycho," he didn't get a playful but definitely not an assuring response.

"Goodnight, psycho."

Ted sensed a tinge of remorse in her voice. He'd stolen a blue French horn for her and taken a cab to the other side of town. Robin gave him directions on how to get to the nearest train, and after his walk of shame, Ted expected to get up tomorrow and act like nothing would have happened. It would be a new day. He'd drag himself out of bed, get electrocuted by his coffeemaker "Shocky," drink his cup of joe and watch Lily and Marshall call each other "Marshmellow" and "Lilypad" in the language that only lovers could appreciate.

Of course, Ted would be externally happy for the "perfect couple." Then the twenty-seven year old would go back to the drawing board, designing his latest architecture project. Eventually, the Ericksens would make wedding plans (and by that Ted knew having sex anywhere he could hear it). Inevitably, Ted would leave the apartment—not only because he couldn't complete his work as Lily the pirate played the bagpipes, but also since he couldn't stand to see them be so damn happy when he'd gotten so close to finding the future Mrs. Mosby.

She had five dogs. She loved a scotch that was old enough to order its own scotch. And she could quote _Ghostbusters_ like she starred in the film itself. And once he got to MacLaren's that next morning, Barney would say:

"Ted, have I taught you nothing? You wasted a perfectly good suit. Suits get you laid, Exhibit A. You spat on that suit, Ted! Spat on it!

"See, I told you she liked the suit. This is the stuff I put in my blog! And if you read it, you would know, Ted, and you'd know to never disgrace a suit by not getting laid. But you don't, Ted, and you left an innocent suit in the line of battle. For shame, sir, for shame!

"Well, at least you learned your lesson and we can put all this romantic crap behind us. Sidebar, Ted: there are only two good things that come from a marriage—cougars, and daughters with daddy issues."

Barney would introduce Ted to some broad who'd been unfortunate enough to cross paths with the blonde psychopath. Eventually, the numbing effect of alcohol and the ensuing hijinks would soon make tonight's embarrassment a fling of the distant past.

_No, I don't want to forget,_ Ted thought. _I don't want to forget this night. I don't want to forget this girl. Not Robin._

And then that reflex called bravery kicked inside of Ted Mosby. The true Ted Mosby, the hopeless romantic, took the stage. He wouldn't be denied.

"You know what? I'm done being single, I'm not good at it."

Robin was taken a bit back by this, but didn't interrupt him.

"Look, obviously you can't tell a woman you just met that you love her, but it sucks that you can't. I'll tell you something, though, if a woman, not you, just some hypothetical woman, were to bear with me through all this, I think I'd make a damned good husband, because that's the stuff I'd be good at."

Did he just see a ghost of a smile on her face? This was his chance.

Ted spoke with the voice of an innocent schoolchild but with the heart of a war hero who wished to see his love again.

"Stuff like making her laugh and being a good father…"

_Here goes._

"…and walking her five hypothetical dogs."

She was smiling by now. He grinned sheepishly. He walked closer.

"Being a good kisser…"

"Everybody thinks they're a good kisser," Robin said disbelievingly.

"Oh, I've got references."

"I'm sure you do," her eyes gleamed approvingly, but not enough to stay.

"Good night, Robin."

Ted extended his hand to shake as if this was just some failed business deal. Not love, just another failed transaction that Wall Street types would quickly shrug off.

But something happened. A magnetism kept their hands locked, shaking slowly. Dancing as if fate hung in the balance.

Robin seemed breathless. "That's a good handshake."

_Was that the signal?_

A million images raced through Ted's mind. Was this it? Flashes appeared of Marshall and Lily making love in the apartment, ready to celebrate their new life. Barney probably shooting little kids and wasting his life playing laser tag in a suit. Which would Ted choose?

_"I gotta take the leap._

_ "Ya know, I've had a jar of olives just sitting in my fridge forever."_

"Those are my olives!" Ted yelled and dove in to kiss her. Though surprised, Robin responded in kind. After the most passionate exchange of saliva in human history, Robin looked him in the eyes again. She was scared, but wanted to take that leap, too.

"I want my olives back." She said gingerly. After a millisecond of pants-crapping fear, Ted realized he still had the jar of olives Robin gave him. She didn't want the olives back; she wanted him to come back upstairs.

"Done."

Ted and Robin kept locked lips as they navigated their way up the steps of the stoop, and eventually all the way back to where their night had left off.

'Forgive me, Tracy,' Ted thought as Robin stuck her head out the window. And she smiled.

'She won't be Aunt Robin for long.'


End file.
